This is where I work. This is where I live, where I go for coffee, where I get my groceries, where I pick up my parcels, where I buy my books, and if I got regular hair cuts, this is where I’d go. It is the everything of Pender. Right now, it is empty. Spring empty before the Summer rush hits.

At work, we concentrate a little on work. Really we do. But mostly, we amble out the door to greet our neighbours picking up their mail. We pet other people’s dogs. We display our kinder-surprise toys on our desk to entice the children, so that we can focus on anything but work. And we blog. Look at me go!

We also wait for the ferry to come in, for the ferry to go out. We get anxious when we hear a siren. We know who’s a Grimmer, who’s married to a Grimmer and who’s not. We know who’s cat is missing and who to call if we hit a deer, run into an owl, and which hitch-hikers are smelly.

This is the second small community I’ve lived in. Both were on the coast. Both were warm and curious of newcomers. Pender is much different than Ucluelet though. People are here to retire. They are here to join a million hobby clubs, to feed the deer with their well-manicured flowers. Wearing threadbare paint-stained jeans do not denote lack of money here on Pender. Do not assume wealth based on clothing taste! You never know who has a law degree, who has a doctorate, or who will write you into their latest murder mystery.

Though my favourite Pender story lately is when I went into the Pharmacy to buy some citric acid for my mozzarella making. The pharmacist asked why I wanted such a humungous tub of citric acid (I couldn’t be on the verge of scurvy, could I?) and I told her I wanted to make cheese. She and the cashier demanded the recipe. Where else do you get approval from the staff at the Pharmacy on your purchase? Do you love it here yet?

I do. I think I’ll stay for a bit.